


Starry Nights and City Lights

by Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Confronting Changes, Confronting Death, F/M, Facing the future, Hurt/Comfort, Living life together, Mostly Canon Compliant, Multi, Pensive Edwin, Post-Canon, supporting each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24098431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains/pseuds/Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains
Summary: A trilogy of ficlets involving different FMA couples as they each face life on the same night.  Edwin, Royai, and Almei.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell, Mei Chan | May Chang/Alphonse Elric, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 16
Kudos: 43





	1. Reflections in Resembool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Winry have returned to Resembool, but the circumstances of their visit are bittersweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I apologize in advance for any errors, be they typographical or grammatical.
> 
> This chapter is a little morose, but what can I say? I'm a sucker for Hurt/Comfort Edwin.

Ed opened the door cautiously, slipping out onto the porch.He couldn’t lie, he was slightly worried by the fact that his wife was nowhere to be found when he had returned to the ground floor moments before.As unlikely as it was that anything was genuinely amiss, he had made a habit out of being more paranoid than he needed to, regardless of the circumstances.He blamed, well, just about everything.There wasn’t exactly one cause for it.If only things were that simple.

Fortunately, on this particular occasion, the touch of fear which had begun to take root in the pit of his stomach was put to rest before it could mature into anything more pernicious.He spotted Winry, seated on the bottom step of the stairs up to the porch, her gaze turned skyward.Between the waxing gibbous moon and the veritable sea of stars which were visible in the sky out here—a blessing of the countryside Ed realized he had altogether taken for granted until he spent years living in a city—there was enough light for him to make his wife out clearly, no thanks to the porch lamp (which looked as though it was more cobweb and dust than glass pane at this point, if he was being honest).

Exhaling the breath which he hadn’t realized he had been holding in, and taking in a long, cool draught of the night air, he made for the steps himself.The floorboards creaked beneath his boots, which brought Winry’s head snapping back to look at him, her lunar vigil interrupted, whatever trance had held her attention broken.She gave him a small, brief smile as he descended the steps and lowered himself down beside her.“You had me going there for a second,” he remarked with a soft chuckled as he shifted, trying to find a comfortable position on the step, something which was easier said than done, considering space of it wasn’t exactly designed to accommodate two people side-by-side.He settled for an aslant posture which left him partially propped up against the railing, which groaned in a slightly ominous fashion when he put too much weight against it, meaning that actually leaning on it was probably out of the question.As it was, he looked more than a little comical, half-reclined and holding himself in said position without anything to actually support him, if only to avoid having to move again.

Winry tilted her head, a questioning gesture.“Oh?”

Ed nodded, possibly a bit more vigorously than he had intended to.He blamed the awkward posture.It was hard to be subtle when his back was in a constant state of protest.“Yep.Thought you pulled a disappearing act or something.”

Winry grinned a bit at this, although Ed could tell that the expression was tainted with something else.She was distracted.By what, he wasn’t completely sure, though he had a good hunch.

“Nope.You’re kind of stuck with me at this point.”Her voice betrayed pensiveness, mixed with a fair share of melancholy.She was elsewhere, and wherever she was, it wasn’t a gleeful place.Not that Ed could blame her.The situation they were in wasn’t exactly a happy one.He wasn’t sure if it could be classified as unhappy either.It was sad, there was no doubt about that, but it wasn’t unexpected.He supposed, if he had to describe it in a word, that it was bittersweet.It felt naturally, as though it was simply a season in and of itself, as common as the change from the dwindling days of summer to the first leaf-falls of autumn, when the lingering heat that clung to the day until the sky had turned to sable finally relinquished its hold on the hills.In a way, it almost felt right, as much as acknowledging that hurt, a deep, meditative sort of agony.He could grasp Winry’s contemplation.He was there too.They all were, he suspected. _My younger self would probably say I sound like an idiot right now, if he was here to read my mind,_ he reflected with a quiet certainty and just a dash of amusement.

“Good,” Ed said simply, before he allowed the stillness to grip the night once more.It seemed the appropriate thing to do.To not violate the moment with any more sound than was necessary.As though doing so would be desecrating something sacred, something hallowed: the sanctity of silence and descending starlight.Instead, he slipped a hand out and brushed Winry’s fingers with his own.She rotated her hand about and cradled his own within her palm, before intertwining their fingers, a mesh of calloused flesh and chipped nails to crown it off.Mechanics’ work wasn’t easy on their hands.

After a period of unbroken calm, during which Winry brought her head back up and returned her eyes to the firmament, while Ed instead chose to gaze downward, capturing the image of their conjoined hands and grass below the step, Winry spoke.“Is she sleeping okay?”Her head angled just enough for her to see Ed out of the side of her vision, without completing sacrificing her stargazing.Ed only nodded in confirmation of this, not wanting to disrupt the hush.“I’m glad,” Winry murmured, peeling her view away from the stars to glance down.She cradled her belly with her free hand, running it over the curve that was now decidedly visible.Ed could almost swear that he saw the moonlight reflecting on glistening pools in the corner of her eyes.He squeezed her hand, bringing their fingers together tightly.She tried to force a smile, but it came out weak, lopsided, a momentary upward twist in the thin line of her lips.She spoke again, a near whisper, loud enough that it might have been a reflection, a statement meant for no one but herself, was he not seated right beside her.“I hoped . . . I hoped she’d get to meet them.They’d get to meet her.”The words were halting, even in their softness, broken tones over a ragged road.

He lifted his free hand and stretched it across his body to stroke her shoulder, as though further touch could somehow heal wounds beneath the surface.Sometimes the best they could do was to affirm each others presence, acknowledge that they weren’t alone, that they were never discarded, never lost, even if they had no way to bind the unseen bleeding.“They might still.The future’s still there.We can’t see it yet.”

She leaned over, pushing the hand on her shoulder away, to rest her head against his shoulder, letting her blonde strands, turned to white gold in the starlight, drape across his chest like a hero’s baldric in a legend.She didn’t speak again for some time then, letting her silence instead convey her distrust of this fact.When she did open her mouth again, she hesitated, the slow breeze running around her lips, as though she was reluctant to say what she felt she must.“I can feel her Ed.Leaving.She’s ready.I wish I was too.”

Ed ran his hand through her hair, parting the cascading locks, drawing them out of her face so it was unobscured.“I don’t think there’s such a thing as being ready when you’re the one who’s going to be left . . .,” he trailed off, the words beyond his reach for a moment.She didn’t say anything, although he couldn’t tell if this was because she had no response to his statement, or if it was because she was waiting for him to say something more.He decided to interpret it as the latter, and began again.“When you’re not the one who’s lived the life, I think it’s hard to let go of it.” _I guess that sounded better in my head than it did aloud.This is what I get for trying to be philosophical.Hell, that sounds like something my dad would have said._ A brief bitter note touched Ed’s tongue at the thought of his father.Something about their parting, if it could even be called that, felt so much worse than this.Not that he missed him.Or at least, he didn’t think he missed him.But he hadn’t been able.To let go, to accept it in the moment, like he should have been.That was the explanation he gave himself anyway, because he refused to accept that part of him wished he had been able to know his father before he was gone.That maybe, just maybe, they could have started anew.But Hohenheim had been ready to leave.His journey had been winding to its finish.There was no stopping the road, only the traveler.You walked until you were weary, and then you lay down to rest.That was how Ed saw it. _Now if only I could put that into words that don’t sound stupid and cold._

He knew Granny was ready.That she wasn’t afraid of the rest, that sleep looked easy to her, even pleasant.She had almost said as much to him, days earlier, when they first arrived back in Resembool.She had getting ready to retire for the night, while Winry had been cleaning up from their dinner.Ed had helped her up the stairs, because she was insistent on staying in her own room, rather than converting one of the ones downstairs to a bedroom.Winry had not been pleased with her grandmother’s stubbornness, but Pinako had been adamant, and in the end, her stubbornness had triumphed over that of her granddaughter’s.Ed had respected the elder Rockbell’s choice, because even he didn’t agree with it, he understood it. 

As Ed and Pinako had reached the landing at the top of the stairs, she had needed to take a few moments to catch her breath.When she had done so, she looked back at Ed.What she said had stuck with him.Granny had never been one to mince words.She was clear and unambiguous.“Edward, I’m glad you’re here.Not for me of course,” she had chuckled softly, a rasping, painful sound, “But for her.She’s going to need you.I’ve had a good run, I think I deserve some time off.She’s not going to like that though.You’re going to have to help her out there.Think you’re up for it?”He hadn’t known quite how to answer this, so had only nodded.This had seemed to satisfy her.“Good.”She had walked over to her bedroom door, before looking back one more time.“Oh, and tell her she better not even think about naming my great-grandchild after me.The world’s not ready for another Pinako so soon.”

Somehow, being able to see that Granny was ready, be able to be here as her journey neared its end, made it easier for him to prepare himself as well.It wasn’t the type of grief he had felt when his mother had been torn away.That had felt unfathomable, incomprehensible, too much to take in, to realize, to know.Or the grief at Hughes’s death—sudden, unexpected, no time to acknowledge it was coming.He kept coming back to the idea of this being natural, maybe not right exactly, but not wrong either.Perhaps that was what set it apart from the other death’s he had known, and what made it less fearsome, less miserable.

“Yeah, maybe so,” Winry muttered, her eyes not meeting Ed’s.She didn’t sound particularly convinced by his words. _Dammit Elric_ , he mentally reprimanded himself. _You’re supposed to be supporting her, making her feel better about this.Don’t go all existential on her.That’s just going to make her feel worse._ He was truly hoping that Al would be able to get here soon, as unlikely as that was, considering his brother still worked in diplomacy (on account of being a whole lot better at it than Ed, not that the older Elric was about to admit it), which meant he was still out of the country at the moment.Ed knew, as did just about everyone, that Al was better at expressing himself and getting his message across in situations like this. _Hell, he’d probably be able to make Winry feel a whole lot better than I can.Some husband I am._ Ed frowned internally.He was failing at the whole, ‘help Winry come to terms with all of this,’ and he knew it. _I can’t just leave it at that.I have to say something else.I’ve got to at least try to come up with something better.Something that actually sounds like I care about how she feels._ He fumbled around for words that sounded consoling, maybe encouraging too, in his mind, but said search was mostly in vain.What ended up coming out of his mouth probably wasn’t the ideal reassurance, but he hoped it would be at the very least halfway better than what he had said last.

“I think . . . I think Granny’s ready for this.But we don’t have to be . . . and that’s okay.We’re going to get through it.Because we aren’t alone.Because we’re both here, and we’re family, and that’s what family does.” _Alright, so that also sounded awkward and mostly terrible.Great, just great.This is why I’m not a diplomat or a politician.I open my mouth, and stupid shit comes out.Al, you better hurry up and get here before I make Winry want to get a divorce!_ He was almost positive that this had ended up being even worse than his previous attempt at consolation.He was surprised then, when Winry shifted her head, pulling it away from his shoulder to look straight at him, the faintest hint of an, albeit mournful, smile clinging to the edges of her face.She nodded.

“Yeah.You’re right.That is what family does.”This time, she squeezed his hand, mirroring his earlier gesture.He felt a pulse of warmth shoot up through his arm, most likely more imagined than physical, but a welcome sensation nonetheless. _Maybe I didn’t mess that up quite as badly as I thought I did,_ he thought, taking some solace in the possibility.

Winry shift back again, leaning up against him once more.His thoughts not quite as concerned with saying something fatal as they had been for the last couple of minutes, Ed realized just how uncomfortable he currently was.Winry leaning up against hadn’t exactly made his current position any more pleasant.In fact, the added weight had made considerably more unpleasant.He was now not only supporting himself in an awkward sort of half-reclined posture, but also some of Winry as well.He was fairly certain that the balancing act wasn’t one he wanted to keep up indefinitely.He decided it might be a good idea, in fact, a great idea, to try to persuade Winry to come back inside with him.This made her next utterance all the more wonderful.

“Hold me.”The words weren’t voiced as a question per se.Nor was it an explicit command.It was, if anything, a statement that occupied the vague space in between the two, where Ed could tell that Winry wasn’t telling him unequivocally that he needed to hold her, but she would also be quite distraught if he didn’t hold her.It was a middle ground that they found their way into with enough frequency that Ed had come to recognize it almost instantaneously whenever it appeared in conversation.In this particular instance, it was in fact, an unintentional blessing.

“How ‘bout in bed?,” He replied, bending his head to the side to kiss the top of her tresses.She nodded, but made no move to withdraw from her current position.Ed gently extracted her, and rose to his feet, breaking the bond between their hands in the process.She looked up at him with a note of confusion in her gaze, as though the severance in contact had somehow disoriented her.Ed noticed, as he saw her face clearly in the moonlight, how very tired she looked.He held out his hand toward her again.“You coming?”

She smiled, and nodded again to this, more firmly, the look of confusion vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.Her hand reached up and met his, and they were complete once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment if you made it this far. I always appreciate feedback, be it compliments, critiques, or explosive rage. xD
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Sentinel Over Central

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy is sleepless in Central, and ends up on his balcony, alone with his thoughts. Not for long, fortunately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the inevitable errors in this. Much of it was written in the wee hours of the morning. Hooray for writer sleeping habits!

Roy shivered a little, in spite of himself.The breeze had turned out to be a little stronger than he anticipated when he first climbed out of bed.April seemed to be doing its best to feel like March instead.He had to admit, a part of him was regretting not changing into something more than substantial than his current attire.He spared a glance down, taking in the undershirt he wore, along with a light, altogether too-flimsy pair of sleeping pants.They had a more specific name, one that made them sound vaguely “exotic,” or simply more interesting than they actually were.Roy normally wasn’t the type to wear flimsy clothes, but even he couldn’t deny that they were comfortable.In bed that was.He could now confirm that they lost their appeal on balconies.Not that the functionality and comfort afforded by his choice in legwear had been his primary concern when he cracked open the door and crept out into the night.Why was it that his restlessness couldn’t choose a warmer night to strike?

With a soft, almost inaudible sigh, that was quickly caught and ripped away by the wind, he inclined himself forward and leaned on the railing, looking out and down, toward the street below.Rows of streetlamps formed globes of illumination, that dissolved into soft darkness about the edges.The city was at rest, stilled from the chaos that normally could be seen bustling across concrete and cobblestone alike.At this hour, the streets of Central were all but deserted, creating the almost uncanny illusion that it was abandoned.That the entire complex, the sprawling urban behemoth that it had grown to be, was nothing but a ghost town.All the grandeur, scope, and architecture nothing but a facade, to hide the absence of live behind a portrait of civilization.And yet, it wasn’t merely a portrait.It was alive, teeming and seething with energy, with the current of existence and society.At most times, that would have been a comforting thought.A sign that all was as it should be in the world, a far cry from the unsettling thought of a vacant metropolis.At that moment though, the fact that the city which stretched before him for as far as he could see in the dim lights was utterly alive, breathing and beating with life, was a much more unnerving thought.His hands curled about to grip the railing, squeezing tight against it, seeking something solid, constructed, predictable.

A more optimistic, hopeful, and slightly lazy side of him wanted to go back inside.It was warmer there, it felt insulated from the outside, as though it would be possible to simply shut himself up in the confines of building and never return to the outside world.That he wouldn’t have to face the next day and whatever it held, and the day after that, and each subsequent day until his mind could no longer comprehend it.It wasn’t like him.It wasn’t a feeling he liked, wasn’t a feeling he wanted to acknowledge was even there, but it remained all the same.He despised, truly despised, how cowardly it was.How it seemed to be the very antithesis of who he was.He was General Roy Mustang, a man who never backed down.A man, if he had doubts, didn’t show them.He kept his cards close, kept his hand tight.Or so he liked to tell himself.Then again, when all was said and done, he was merely Roy Mustang.Simple, broken, human, fundamentally no different from anyone else who walked on the streets of Central, drove the roads in the North, sailed down a river in the West, or rode train tracks through Eastern hills.And though he tended to believe that he never backed down, he knew as well as the next person that he had never been faced with running, no, leading a country before.And that was where the fearful factor entered the equation.It seemed as though it had been a long time since he had really done something new.Something which he hadn’t done yet, that he had never experienced. _Sure, I’ve done new things.But . . . have they really been anything more than versions of, variations on, what I had already done in the past?_

He tried to think of what he had done last that had been completely new in his career, in the Amestrian world.He realized, right away, that it had been a dual-sided experience.Both regaining his sight, learning to understand just what seeing was, and the rebuilding in Ishval.They had both been new.Set apart from the past.Something fresh and growing.But that had been the better part of six years ago.He hadn’t quite noticed how time had slipped away like that.It seemed easy to recall a time when had been twenty-six, stationed in the East, not yet a General, a Colonel with ambitions greater than he was.But with friends too, who were stronger than he was.Then again, that much hadn’t changed.His lips arched up just a bit at the thought.That was something which he could always count on.His pieces might not all still be beside him, but they would always be somewhere on the field.And his Queen . . . well, something new had certainly happened.He was selfish however, and wasn’t about to count that as a part of the Amestrian world.It was too precious.It was part of his world. _No, that’s not right.It’s part of our world._

He pulled his gaze away from the silent, hollow streets below, and fixed it instead on the moon, growing ripe in the sky above.Something both constant, and yet always changing.A familiar cycle, never stopped, never altered.Predictable in its actions, but moving nonetheless.It was a sort of peaceful revolution, allowing its form to shift freely, so long as the path remained the same.He hoped that someday, that would be how power changed in the lands its shined on.If there was one goal he had, foolish though some might see it, it was to be the last of the military to lead Amestris.He could think of far better leaders, who came from outside the ranks of officers.Making soldiers leaders wasn’t always all it cracked up to be.He thought Amestris, of all places, should be able to appreciate that.Maybe then, that was what made the nearing future intimidating.Not the act of leading and directing alone, but the act of shaping and guiding away from that leadership, toward something else.That was a half-frightening thought. _How do you end something that you yourself are a product of, that you symbolize, without alienating the establishment that gave you the power to end it in the first place?_ Another thing he decided ‘never’ could be applied to: easy answers.Some of the military were already onboard with the idea of curtailing their power, he was sure of that.He either knew, or suspected, that some of the more powerful players (such as General Armstrong) felt that a parliament was something the country needed.Others wouldn’t be hard to persuade.They were more concerned with doing their job and taking care of the business of protecting and supporting the country than running.But there were still others, holdovers from the previous era, the old regime, that hadn’t been rooted out yet.Grumman had certainly done his best, and Roy could only thank him for that, but there were members of the military whose power had been diminished from its previous peak, but couldn’t be removed outright without the possibility of a civil war, at least on some scope, becoming all too real.Nothing was ever straightforward or effortless when it came to politics.Maybe that was why he was standing on a balcony, chilling his skin in the early morning darkness.

“You left the door open.”An unexpected, though not unfamiliar, voice behind him made him wheel about, the motion occurring far quicker than he had anticipated.He steady himself against the railing, combatting the slight disorientation caused by the dissonance between his rapid movement and his only partially-lucid mind.Riza tilted her head at him as she strode over to stand by him.“You alright?”

He nodded.“Just thinking.”

She rested her the small of her back against the railing, reclining ever so slightly as she regarded him somnolently.Her brow hooked inward, a sure indicator of concern.“Nightmares?”

The question was a fair one.There was not enough time in the world to consume the memories of some things, and the power their pain still held over him.Still, the years had been kind enough to show him how to bear it.And in a way, that seemed more just.It would be a sin to erase certain memories, if only because of the warning and the lesson they held.

In this case though, he could be thankful that her theory was incorrect.He shook his head.

She nodded, accepting this answer as reasonable.“I figured I would have heard something. If not, felt it.”This made sense as well.His sleeping terrors weren’t always of the silent variety, and at the very least, in Riza’s own words, he ‘thrashed about like a dying fish’ when they found him.

He noted that Riza was now looking at him intently, almost expectantly, as though waiting for him to explain his insomnia, as he had shot down her original hypothesis.“A lot on my mind.Too much to sleep,” he offered quietly, half of him still lost in his own thoughts, and most of the other half too exhausted to think coherently.It wasn’t the best of combinations.

Riza didn’t directly respond to this justification for some time.They merely enjoyed the silence together, the night feeling not quite as cold as it had when Roy’s vigil was a solitary one.There was something about company, especially this particular company, that made everything all the more wonderful, even when the ‘source material’ was far from it.

When Riza did speak again, her voice was conversational and intimate, the kind of tone that only flowed between friends of many years, family of longer years, and lovers.It was an appropriate tone them, to pass between them, considering he liked to think they had filled all of those roles in each others lives.

“Anything worth talking about?”

He tried to grin wryly, but his muscles didn’t particular feel like moving more than they had to, which meant that it ended up coming out as more of an awkward twitching around his mouth.It was a rather strange expression to observe.It looked mildly redolent of a seizure, isolated to the lips.“Not unless you were secretly the queen of a country I don’t know about,” he murmured, more lethargic than lithe, unfortunately. _Mental note: humor falls flat when you’re about to pass out from sleep deprivation._ However, that didn’t stop him from throwing in an attempt at a punch line.Assuming that the first quip could even be considered a set up.“And if you did, why the hell did you move to Amestris?Wouldn’t have been my first choice.”His voice diminished toward the end of his last sentence, protesting so much consecutive use in his near-somnambulant state. _Second mental note: never throw in a second line when you’re sixty-percent asleep.Or maybe seventy.Let’s go with sixty-five._

One of Riza’s eyebrows crept up her forehead, while the other one crooked itself into a sort of jagged-arch construct.Roy thought it vaguely resemble an undulating caterpillar. _A tiny, pale, thin, blonde, undulating caterpillar._ _Yep, I definitely need sleep.Slap yourself Roy, before you think her lips are a frog or something.You don’t want to kiss a frog.Never kiss a frog._

Roy was quickly learning, or, more accurately, relearning for the nth time, that mentally fretting over the future when he was already bone-tired, only served to make him even more tired than he thought he could get. _Is the next level of tired after bone-tired marrow-tired, or is it just dead-tired?Damn, now I’m starting to sound drunk.That’s not a good sign._

“You’re funnier when you’re awake,” Riza remarked, apparently not all that amused by Roy’s attempted comedy. 

He wasn’t about to disagree with the truth.“Yep.”He wanted to follow that on with a ‘sounds about right to me,’ but he decided the extra work to get his mouth to actually move like a normal human mouth would wasn’t worth the effort. _New strategy.Introducing, monosyllables.Starting now._

“So, why the balcony?”She turned about to follow his gaze, which had found its way back out over the city once more.They both surveyed the slumbering metropolis together, two guardians keeping watch over a dormant titan.There was something mythical about it.

He shrugged, knowing she could still see him out of her peripheral vision.“This,” he supplied, adding know further context.She didn’t ask for any though, but simply held her eyes beside his, both pairs taking in the cityscape without comment, without critique, without spoken thought.

 _It’s been years now,_ he mused. _Since we needed words to tell each other the truth.Maybe we never needed them._ It was surprisingly uncomplicated to move into metaphysical territory, or at least some comical caricature of it, when dreaming was only a shut eyelid away.

“Because of today” Riza remarked, a phrase that could have been a question, but wasn’t.There was no inquisition in it, no digging for confirmation.Only acknowledgement of fact.And yet, Roy struggled to wrap his mind around it for a second. _She means tomorrow.Tomorrow’s what’s on my mind.Not today.Wait . . . today_ _is_ _tomorrow.And tomorrow is . . . after that._ Roy wanted to sigh, and revel in his self-disappointment for a moment, but he didn’t want to risk it.There was more than a small chance that a sigh would turn into a yawn halfway through its run, and he had a strong inkling that might be enough to push him over the edge.All things considered, he didn’t feel like succumbing to the clutches in the middle of his balcony. _That wouldn’t exactly be the most distinguished way to start off my tenure.People probably want a leader who isn’t passed out and hanging off the second story on the day he’s sworn in.I kind of doubt that’s the type of behavior people respect in authority figures._

“Because of today,” he echoed, their voices reverberating in his mind, harmonizing into a single sound, the ending ‘today’ bouncing repeatedly as it grow distant, until it faded completely.It sunk in a few moments after their words mixed. _It is today.It really is today._ Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to drag himself back inside and fling himself into bed.Maybe he would finally be utterly drained to the extent that he could cram in a few hours of blissfully blank sleep before his world changed.It didn’t seem likely, as he thought he could spy the first patch of dawn’s light fading the blackness along the edge of the horizon to a navy blue, but it was at least worth a shot.

“New lives . . .,” he began, letting the two-word utterance, the symbols that were more or less meaningless well allowed to hang so loosely, with unmitigated freedom.“. . .I guess,” he ended lamely, his thoughts hitting a wall before he could propose anything profound, any witty statement that made light of the whole situation. _I’m standing at the edge of a balcony, panicking inside over how I’m going to lead my country, when I start leading my country in hours.I pick the best time for cold-feet.Literal cold feet._ He wanted to laugh at his own joke, but quickly ascertained both that he didn’t have the enthusiasm in him currently to do so, and that Riza would definitely be considerably confused, if not outright concerned by the abrupt action without any visible catalyst.

Riza shook her head, turning to look at him, breaking their shared vigil.Roy decided the vigil wasn’t so worthwhile after all when it reverted to being a solo affair, and so he matched her stance.They both stared at each other for a brief moment or two, seeing each other mentally with a hazy amalgamation of clarity, and physical with eyes ready to tear up from fatigue and the wind which refused to abate.

“We’re still us Roy.It won’t be a new life.It will just be the continuation of this one.And I’m guessing it won’t the wildest part yet, considering what’s preceding it.”She extended a hand, and took his into it, a minute smile flirting with her face, but not fully appearing.

The words didn’t heal anything, didn’t dash any worries or future fears to bits with their assertions, and yet, they were enough to calm his concerns.They were enough to let his distress die down, rest a little, turn gentle enough that his mind could stop pacing, racing listlessly in the loops it had fallen into. 

Roy was impressed, though he didn’t think he could express that much without stumbling and potentially saying something disastrous.So he didn’t try to.Still, within his own mind, he allowed himself to be awed by Riza’s capability to say something wise while he could barely string together a cogent sentence.Especially when he remembered that she had the reputation as the quiet one.He supposed that was part of the difference between getting some sleeping and getting virtually none when it came down to it. _I guess fading out for a few moments until your overactive subconscious dwells on something for too long and jolts you back into dull anxiety doesn’t really count as resting._

Lacking any words that responded rationally or critically to her wisdom, he settled for a safe substitute.“Yeah.”

She wasn’t put off by his current taciturn demeanor, just as he wasn’t put off by the similar disposition that she frequently adopted in a more professional setting.If there was anyone who felt comfortable dealing with reserved individuals, it was Riza Hawkeye.She wasn’t exactly the model of extroversion herself, as just about anyone who knew her could corroborate.Instead of offering any further commentary of her own, she instead crept in closer to Roy, until their bodies brushed against each other.He found himself tempted to lean into her, his weariness exerting its will.Riza saw as much.She wrapped a hand around his back and turned him back toward the door.He allowed her to lead, both too exhausted to seriously care, and trusting her more than he did himself. _Then again, that applies whether I’m dead-tired or not._ “

You should get to bed before you take a nap in the open air.Wouldn’t want to catch a cold.You have a speech to give,” she teased him softly as she guided him back inside.He groaned as she mentioned the speech.Riza was internally just the tiniest bit glad he was a step away from sleep, because if he had been more awake, that groan would have likely instead taken the form of a series of complaints about how much he despised giving formal speeches, and how much he detested having to stick to the predefined script, even if he had been the one who wrote it.He was still coming to terms, a good decade later, with the fact that there were consequences for getting sidetracked during unscripted speeches, and making remarks that weren’t exactly proper oratory material.Then again, if there was one thing Roy could be that drove his loved ones, and especially her, crazy to no end, it was spontaneous. _Which is really just the polite way to say he has an impulsive streak somewhere in there that he’s in rampant denial about._

After a relatively quick journey across the bedroom, they had returned to the latest object of Roy’s affectations: their bed. _Has it always looked so beautiful?,_ he found himself wondering, having reached the inverse of lucidity: utter inanity.As Riza watched him climb, a little clumsily, up into the bed, he mumble-yawned something along the lines of, “Waaaatch ou’ Rizzaa, you goott compeeetiittion.”The words were only partly intelligible, which made the statement all the more confusing.

“What's that?”Riza glanced down, uncertain if she had heard her husband correctly or not.

He nodded his head before he lay down, looking as though he wouldn’t be saying anything else for a good while once his eyes shut.“Yep,” he slurred sleepily.“I miiiight leeaavee youuuu for this bedd.”This was his last waking thought, as the next moment his head hit the pillow, and his eyelids went down like an extinguished lamp.The next thing Riza knew, he was out. 

She rolled her eyes as she crossed to close the door.“Well, at least you’ll be warm darling.”He didn’t reply, but she hadn’t expected him to respond.He was gone now, and sleep wasn’t likely to give him back any time soon.She smiled as she climbed back into the other side of the bed.“Good night my love.”


	3. Restlessness and Railroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Al has difficulty sleeping on the train ride back to Amestris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third and final installment in this trilogy of vignettes. This one is pure Almei. Congratulations if you made it through the first two and are still here! xD
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Al rolled over onto his side, pulling the blanket he had draped over himself with him.He was tempted to roll back onto his opposite side once more, but decided against it. _Either way, I’m not going to be able to sleep._ He could feel the steady thrumming, the ceaseless rattle and rumble beneath him.The train was still rolling along, the miles racing by.He sighed, quietly, not wanting to wake the other occupant of the compartment.He was normally fairly decent at falling asleep on trains.He had certainly gotten plenty of practice at the art over the past several years.In fact, he sometimes wondered if he slept on trains as much as he slept off of them. _Then again, it’s not the train that’s keeping me up._ The thought crept into his mind before he could push it away, and once it was there, there was no denying it.It was the truth, whether he liked it or not.The train wasn’t responsible for his restlessness.

He let his eyes wander about the compartment, adjusting to the dim light which crept around the edges of the window that was mostly obscured by shades at the moment.He was glad that this train had sleeper cars.Especially considering how last minute their plans had been.They could have easily ended up on one that didn’t.Not that trying to sleep on normal compartment seating would have been any worse for him.At least not at the moment.Regardless of what train he was on, sleep was going to be elusive. _I know that much at least._ He was glad though, because this ride was definitely a lot more comfortable for Mei.

He found his gaze drifting over to his girlfriend’s prone form.He could barely make out the outline of her body in the alcove across the room.He was still a little disappointed than none of the slots ever had room for two people. _Then again, that probably wouldn’t be very practical.They have to maximize space in their design._ He tried his best to ignore the more rational part of his brain that offered counterarguments to that particular grievance.He didn’t particularly feel like being rational at that moment.In fact, being rational was one of the last things he wanted to do.

He marveled at how peaceful Mei looked.Or at least, how peaceful he imagined her looking.It was impossible for him to make out any of her features, or even determine her expression in the near-darkness. _There are times when I wish I had better night vision._ Nonetheless, he decided to envision her as appearing at peace.She was hardly stirring, and certainly wasn’t turning about fitfully the way he was, which he took to be a good indicator that she was actually resting. _That makes one of us, so that’s something good._ It made him happy to think that Mei was asleep.She deserved the rest.It had been a difficult couple of days, and he knew it had worn her out just as much as it had him, if not even more.After all, she had been doing her best to support him, to keep him going, to keep him calm and keep him from worrying too much. _I still worried too much, of course.I just didn’t let her see all of it.I don’t want to make her worry as much as I’m worrying right now._

Al wasn’t usually the one to be overly anxious.To be concerned.Not anymore, anyhow.If anything, that was a characteristic more applicable to his brother, as much as he tried not to let it show.Now though, he could sense the anxiety, nervous teeth biting into the fleshy base of his belly, tearing into his entrails and eating up from there.He was a little sick, his stomach churning along with his receptive turning, back and forth in the book, to the point that it had become purposeless.There was no meaning to it, no rhyme or reason.He was simply doing it, because he couldn’t help himself.His mind was moving, tearing forward without reserve, and his body couldn’t help but follow in its footsteps.He had tried to fight the urge to shift again.He had wanted to simply freeze in one position, and remain still in it until sleep claimed him, but that had quickly proven to be a fruitless endeavor.The desire to shift again, to let his thoughts flip him over again, had gotten too strange, too nagging after a while.He had caved then, and allowed himself to be rotated.Now, it had become a pattern.Almost a habit.It seemed as though he had been doing it for as long as his memory was capable of stretching, though in reality, he knew it had only a few hours at most.It hadn’t been that long ago that the drapes has been opened, and the flames of the setting sun had filled the compartment with dancing tongues of orange, crimson. and gold.The space had been much more comforting then, illuminating in the embers.Now, it seemed cold, lifeless, a broken construct with two poor souls caught inside.it was strange how much more claustrophobic a location could be without light.The space had apparently died when the lights were extinguished.

One part of Al wanted to get up, to flick on one of the lamps that protruded from the walls, in the hopes of breathing life back into the slain room.At the same time, he didn’t want to risk waking Mei by rising from his bed.Her sleep, her rest, was too important.He could deal without sleep for a while longer.Sooner or later, his body would pass the point of utter exhaustion, and he would succumb to slumber, in spite of his rebellious mind.He hoped that it would happen soon.As it was, he was trapped in a waking haze, his thoughts and the slivers of light from the window edges his only conscious companions.And they couldn’t really be called good company.

He told himself that he wasn’t worried about Granny, and he was pretty sure that much was true.She had seemed at peace, the last time they had talked, and he doubted now was any different.He thought he would get to see her again before she left.Ed had said that the fall wasn’t as bad as it could have been, and he didn’t think she was going to go too terribly soon.Al had read past the words themselves though, hearing the truth in his brother’s tone.Ed had only half believed what he told Al.So, if it turned out that Granny left before Al and Mei got there, Al had decided he would cross that bridge when he came to it.He hoped he could live with it.There wasn’t much he could do about it either way.They had left as soon as they could after the call came through, but even as it was, it would at least be the better part of a week before they made it back to Resembool, if not longer.It was out of his hands, beyond his reach.And that made his fear all the more potent.

Al was afraid, not for Granny, but for his brother, and for Winry, who was really his sister by everything but blood.His heart and intuition both told him that this was tearing them apart inside.That the pain he felt probably paled in comparison to that which they were facing.Maybe this was a product of his detrimental tendency to reduce his own feelings in comparison to others, or maybe it was a legitimate assessment of the fact that he had a better balance in, and grip on, his own feelings than Ed and Winry had on theirs.Both were equally possible explanations for his feelings, and perhaps it was in fact a combination of the two.Regardless of what brought on the fear, it was relentless.He needed to be there, for Ed, for Winry, for his family, and yet, he was days away, powerless to do anything to help ease the pain of the ones he loved.The thought made his fingers twitch in distress, his pulse accelerate and slow irregularly, and placed healthy sleeping habits firmly outside of the realm of possibility.

Beneath the fear, the concern for his family, there was a trace of guilt as well, turned like a blade toward himself.Something whispered into his mind that he should be ashamed for being so far away from his family in the first place, that he hadn’t spent the time he should have with them in years, and that he had traded his real home for an new one and was now paying the price for it.Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the nagging bitterness, its bile content to rest noxiously in his gut.Concurrently, another voice whispered in his mind that his reasons for being absent so often were valid.That the work he did, the alliances and agreements he helped uphold, and the peace he helped maintain were just as important as being present in Resembool, if not more important, because of the many lives they positively effected.It argued that the good of his home nation, and the wellbeing of other societies should be prioritized over the wellbeing of one family.That, from a rational perspective, the needs of the many should take precedence over the needs of the few.Yet, this felt like a betrayal.A cold, statistically-based denial of the value and significance of family.And so, what Al was left with was ambivalence.On one hand, he had failed to be support his family the way he should have by being absent so often, but on the other, if he had chosen to visit Resembool more frequently and devote less time to his work, he would have failed in his duties as a diplomat.It seemed inevitable that he had to fail someone to satisfy someone else.The whole predicament only served to intensify the throbbing in his head that appeared earlier in the evening.

Al rolled his shoulders and propped himself up with his elbow, looking toward the visible sliver of light around the window edge with a vague, unfocused gaze. _I need to do something, even if it’s just a way to distract myself and keep myself out of my head for a while._ The problem with this desire was of course the lack of anything to do in a sleeping compartment in the middle of the night, aboard a train that as thundering across hundreds of miles.He was all but imprisoned by his own thoughts, with no respite in sight. _Escaping is hard when there’s not a clear route._ He sat straight up, fighting the urge to make any sound loud enough to wake Mei.Unfortunately, his movement was a little too abrupt, which resulted in him stretching up further than he meant to.This in turned resulted in him slapping the top of his skull into the top of the slot above him.He clapped a hand over his mouth, muffling his groan of pain, and teetered for a moment, gritting his teeth together.

“Are you alright my dearest?”Mei’s voice broke into his thoughts, a not-unwelcome interruption, although his guilt spiked when he realized he had likely woken her up with his half-subdued outburst.He looked over to her slot, but couldn’t make out any change in her posture, and was still unable to see her face in the darkness.The only indicator of her alertness was her speech. 

Still grimacing in pain, he nodded, before remembering that just as he couldn’t see her in the darkness, she probably couldn’t see much of him.“Yeah, I’m okay,” he confirmed, his voice sounding just as tired as he felt.“Just bumped my head, that’s all.”

“Okay.You looked like you couldn’t sleep.”

This observation somewhat perplexed Al.“You mean you saw me . . . earlier?You were awake?”

“Yes to both of those,” Mei answered, her voice taking on a tone that sounded vaguely like the vocal equivalent to a blush.

Al felt a twinge of regret cutting into his belly.“I’m sorry my princess, I didn’t mean to wake you up.My bad . . .”

“It’s okay.You didn’t.I already couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh,” he responded in puzzlement.“I didn’t realize.”

Her voice was kind when she replied.“I didn’t want to wake you up by being too loud.At least, not until I saw that you were awake anyway.”

“Huh.I was trying to be quiet so I didn’t wake you up.”

A moment passed, before they both shared a round of quiet laugher.

“Alright, you go first,” Mei instructed when their giggles subsided.

“What do you mean?”

“You explain why you can’t sleep first.I mean, we might as well get to the bottom of this.”

He smiled in spite of his inner turbulence, and spoke truthfully.“I can’t sleep because I’m worried about Ed and Winry.Your turn.”

“Well, I can’t sleep because I’m worried about you.”

Al paused for a minute, processing this.“I guess we’re both in the same boat, huh?”

“I’m pretty sure this is a train, my dearest.”Mei laughed, the dulcet and wholesome sound falling on Al’s ears warmly.He found himself smiling a little more broadly than before.

“Hey, it’s dark, it’s hard to tell,” he protested in amusement.

“Maybe you should get your eyes checked,” Mei fired back, her voice mellifluous with humor.

“I dunno, I think my eyes are working pretty well.After all, as dark as it is in here, I can still tell that you’re beautiful.”

He could visualize her rolling her eyes, but grinning all the while in response to this comment.“You’re so sweet to me,” she said, the genuine affection audible in her voice.

“It’s the least I can do.I can’t compare with how wonderful you are to me.”

“I think you do a pretty good job,” Mei replied.

“Thanks.I try my best for my princess.”

“And you succeed, my dearest.”

They fell silent for a few seconds, before Al spoke again.“I don’t think we’re going to get much sleep tonight.”

“I would have to agree,” Mei concurred.

“Do you mind if I open the drapes again?I think the moonlight would look nice in here.”

“I like that idea.”

Al extracted himself from his blanket and slid forth from his slot, crossing the compartment to the window.He could feel the vibrations and the rhythmic bouncing of the floor beneath him as he walked, stepping carefully and purposefully.At the window, he pulled the curtains aside, revealing the countryside which rushed past, painted by the white sheen of lunar light.This same light washed into the compartment, the barrier in its path removed, pushing away some of the gloom that had gathered in the cabin.

Al sat down on the bench by the window, turning his head gazing out onto the passing landscape thoughtfully.It wasn’t long before he felt Mei join him, taking what room was left on the bench.He swiveled his head back to her as she leaned in, nuzzling her body into his chest.“Do you want to talk about it?,” she asked quietly.

He shook his head.“Not now . . . I don’t think there’s much you can do.Maybe in the morning though.Do you want to talk about it?”

He felt her head roll back and forth against his ribs.“No, I’m okay with this.” As if to clarify what 'this' referred to, she leaned further into him, letting her frame rest against his.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tight.“I love you, my princess.”

“And I love you, my dearest.”She raised her head and brought her lips up toward his face.He met the gesture, forming the kiss.It was a slow and soft union, a sign of sentiments that were sometimes better conveyed through touch than words. 

As they finally pulled away from the display of affection, Al faintly remarked, “Actually . . . my love . . . there is one thing.One question, I mean.”

“I’m all ears.”She caught his gaze, her eyes searching his, linking them together by sight as much as physical contact.

“Do you think I’m failing my family by how often I’m away?By how often we’re traveling, how often we’re not there?”

Mei’s gaze was unwavering, as was her reply.“No, I don’t.I believe you’re living the life you’re meant to live.That we’re living the life we’re meant to be living.I think you show your family how much they mean to you whenever you are there, and I think they accept and approve of your choices.I think if you asked either Ed or Winry that question, you’d definitely get lectured on how wrong you were, and you might possibly get something thrown at you.Or maybe some combination of the two.Does that answer your question?”

He tilted his head and laid a kiss on her cheek, feeling reassured on some level, even if the reprieve from his obstinate doubts was only temporary.“Yeah, that answers my question.”

“Good.Now, personally I don’t care if my back kills me for it in the morning, I have every attention of sitting right here and cuddling with you until we both pass out.Think you can roll with that?”

“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do right now.”

Silence fell as they sat in the descending moonlight, intertwined and content to wait together until sleep called.Eventually it did, and they dropped away from the world, still bound up together, an unbroken loop.Mei was of course right in saying that her back would kill her in the morning, although the same applied to Alphonse as well.They didn’t mind too terribly much though.It was a price worth paying.However, they both agreed the company really needed to look into making sleeping slots wide enough for two people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feel free to leave a comment! I always appreciate feedback.


End file.
